


The Fear of Falling

by discountalien



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, Everybody Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-11 01:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountalien/pseuds/discountalien
Summary: By some miracle, Malik gets along with everyone in Suite 700B—except one of them is missing. When their elusive sixth suitemate finally turns up (three weeks late with Starbucks) it sends shockwaves though Malik’s life.Altair starts attending a prestigious American university to escape his past. Instead, he stumbles onto a part of it that he thought was lost to him forever.Evie has her hands full between helping Jacob get through his first quarter alive and keeping her new friends from killing each other. She’s tempted to murder them all herself just to get a good night’s sleep.—The college AU nobody asked for, complete with parkour, fistfights, and murder. Trigger warnings for discussions of self harm and parent/child emotional abuse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Altair shows up in the next chapter ;)

Move-in day was always hectic, but at least Malik didn't have share his room with two other boys for the third year in a row. He'd lucked out and snagged a single room, much to Desmond's bitter envy. Malik’s best friend was trapped in a mini-double. The legality of shoving two loft beds into a room meant for a single twin and a tiny desk was questionable, but the university had over-admitted again.

"Why couldn't you room with me again?" Desmond sighed as he helped Malik assemble his IKEA desk. He didn't whine much, considering how he was from rich white suburbia. His father was some kind of corporate bigshot. Desmond didn't like talking about him, so Malik had never asked for clarification.

"Because I don't love you enough to give up having my own fucking room," Malik said. He finished putting the sheets on the bed and flopped onto it with a sigh. Chances were, he would end up hating the rest of his suite. "Right. Let's go meet everyone."

Everyone else was already in the common room when Malik stepped out. There was a nervous-looking boy who reminded Malik of a hamster, a dark-skinned boy with long-ish black hair that curled at the nape of his neck, and a boy and girl who had to be siblings. They were too similar to be anything but—same pale skin, dark hair, blue eyes, and tall build.

"Hey, you two rooming here?" the brother asked.

His accent was unmistakably British, and he wore a friendly grin. He lay sprawled across the length of the couch like a ragdoll. His sister jabbed him in the ribs and he sat up quickly. The other two suitemates had some kind of silent battle of wills before the hamster-ish boy won and took the open seat on the couch. He didn't look too upset about being crammed in between the boy and the armrest. The brown-skinned boy glared at him from his place on the floor.

"Just me," Malik answered. "This is Desmond. I'm Malik."

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Evie, and this is my twin brother, Jacob," the sister said in a smoother, more elegant version of her brother’s accent. She turned to the boy sitting next to Jacob. "And you are?"

"Aleck," he answered cheerfully. "Aleck Bell."

"Looks like I'm the last one," the boy on the floor said. He had a British accent as well. "I'm Henry."

"You're the odd one out, Malik," Jacob said, earning himself another jab in the ribs. "Ow! What? I'm not wrong. They must have stuffed all the Brits in the same suite."

"I'm _Scottish_," Aleck said with a huff.

"Ah, course, sorry mate," Jacob apologized.

Malik resisted the urge to rub his forehead. The guy seemed friendly enough, but he was so . . . _intense_. Evie shared a sympathetic look with Malik. He could already tell that they would get along fantastically.

"Aren't you guys still missing someone?" Desmond asked. "Two doubles, two singles, right? There's only five of you."

"Mayhaps they're moving in late?" Aleck guessed. "I checked the other single room earlier, but no one answered."

Malik shrugged. The guy would turn up eventually, and if he didn’t, Desmond could take the room. "Years and majors? I'm third-year human bio, public health minor."

"First-year bioengineering," Aleck said with a grin. Malik would not have guessed that, but there was still time yet for him to develop the jaded exhaustion of the older bioengineering students.

“Haven’t decided yet!” Jacob yelled at the same time that Evie said, “Pre-law.”

She rolled her eyes at her brother and added, “We’re also first-years.”

Henry was practically beaming as he said, “I’m pre-law as well. I just transferred here, but I am technically a second-year. And what about you, Desmond?”

“International business and cog-sci double major,” Desmond answered. “I’m a junior like Malik.”

Jacob whistled appreciatively, slouching against Aleck like his spine was made of gelatin. “Guess I’m the black sheep here. All of you sound so smart.”

“Maybe if you studied more instead of running around getting in trouble, you’d do better in school,” Evie said.

“You know I can’t sit still that long!”

“I _do_ know.”

Malik looked around at his suitemates and found himself almost smiling. So maybe he wouldn’t hate any of them. Not even Jacob. Patience was a virtue, after all.

  
—

  
Patience was overrated once week three came around and Malik started buckling down for his first midterm. Jacob kept to his and Evie’s room, which should have been fine, except that the walls were very thin, and Jacob’s voice carried. Good singer or not, there were only so many drinking songs Malik could take before he gave in and texted Evie.

>> _can_ _you_ _tell_ _your_ _brother to shut up?_

She didn’t reply, but a minute later Malik heard the sound of a thick book making contact with a thicker skull, followed by an indignant yelp. 

**espeon**: _Better?_

>> _excellent_, _thanks_

**espeon**: :)

Malik returned to his studying. He had o-chem Monday morning, and a physiology midterm on Thursday afternoon. With luck, he’d scrape up an A- on the o-chem test. The class average hovered around fifty percent, so all he needed was to get seventy. And physiology would be a breeze as long as he reviewed the material Wednesday night.

The door handle rattled, pulling Malik’s attention away from his notes. He lifted his head and called out.

“Who is it?”

“Nevermind,” the person said. His voice wasn't one Malik recognized, though it did sound oddly familiar. The British accent was throwing him off. “Wrong room.”

That had to be their missing sixth suitemate. Malik wondered why he’d turned up so late, but he didn’t dwell on it long. His watch was beeping to tell him it was time for the gym.

By the time Malik had finished changing and grabbed his bag, the boy had already disappeared into his room. It was strange to see light shining through the crack under the door after three weeks of the fourth room lying empty. Quiet and empty. Now Malik could hear faint music. At least the guy had decent taste.

“Ready, Malik?” Evie said as she stepped out of her room. Malik turned away from the now-occupied fourth room and nodded.

Apparently the twins used to do gymnastics before they got too tall for professional competition. Evie now practiced jiu jitsu and ballet, while Jacob did kickboxing. Without his thick jacket and heavy leather boots, Jacob was surprisingly small. Evie’s long sleek coat, on the other hand, disguised her surprisingly muscular physique, her biceps enviable and her abs rock-solid. Sparring with them was the highlight of Malik’s evenings. 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The mystery of their suitemate could wait until after they were done beating the shit out of each other on the mat.

  
—

  
Jacob really liked his suite. He was easy-going by nature, but he’d still expected there to be at least _one_ person he didn’t like. Somehow, everyone was great, even Malik. The guy kind of had a stick up his ass, but he was a decent bloke once they started talking. He was a first-gen American, and all of his parents’ hopes and dreams were riding on his shoulders, so Jacob understood why he was so bloody anal about his grades.

Henry was nice too, even if he had an obvious crush on Evie. He never complained when Jacob asked for help on his homework, and he had that special knack for making the material easy to understand. Which was a very good thing, because Jacob was terrible at calculus.

And then there was Aleck, who was always working on some new project every time Jacob came over to his and Henry’s room to get tutoring. Jacob liked listening to him talk about his contraptions, even if he only understood a third of what Aleck was saying at any given moment. He figured Aleck liked having an audience, and Jacob liked watching Aleck get progressively more excited the longer he talked.

Jacob blinked his thoughts away and ducked sideways as Malik punched at his face. He answered with a roundhouse kick, which Malik shoved away with a gloved hand before side-kicking Jacob in the gut. Jacob stumbled back and shielded his face from a flurry of punches before tackling Malik and taking him down onto the mat. Malik was swift and brutal with his kicks and punches, but Jacob was still the better grappler.

The match finally ended with the timer going off—these were friendly matches, so they never fought to submission. That would likely land someone in hospital. They were all much too competitive to give up without breaking a few bones first.

Evie handed Jacob his water and a clean towel. He wiped off the sweat beading his nose and downed half the bottle in one go.

“Slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Evie warned.

“Are you worried about me, dear sister?”

“Yes, constantly.”

Malik snorted as he did his post-workout stretches. “Did you two notice that our suitemate finally turned up?”

“Did they now?” Jacob asked. He was both anxious and excited to meet them.

Malik nodded. “I only heard his voice, but the room is definitely occupied now.”

“I didn’t hear any luggage,” Evie said thoughtfully. “He must not have brought much with him. Do you think he’ll be moved in by the time we get back?”

“I bet he will. Let’s bring him along to dinner,” Jacob said. He peeled off his shirt, which was soaked with sweat, and grinned when a couple of girls giggled from the bike machines. He flexed and winked at them, wincing when Evie smacked the back of his head.

“Go shower, you shameless idiot.”

Jacob gave her a sheepish smile and went off to the locker room without protest. Inside, he showered quickly, spending a bit of extra time on his hair. It was getting a little long and had a tendency to get oily if he didn’t wash it thoroughly. He didn’t know how Evie managed with her waist-length locks, or how she always had the patience for her braid-crown. He certainly didn’t know how she always managed to be done first. Evie was already waiting outside when he and Malik left the locker room. She gave his damp hair a playful ruffle before gesturing at the door.

“Come on, I’m starving.”

“Aleck, Henry, mystery man! We’re back! Come get dinner?” Jacob yelled as soon as they were back at the dorm. Evie rolled her eyes as she tossed their gym bags inside their room.

“Coming!” Aleck yelled in reply. He popped out a moment later, looking slightly frazzled. He smoothed out his jumper and clapped his hands together decidedly. “Right, dinner. Henry’s not coming, he’s got a paper due tonight.”

“Christ, a paper in week three?”

“Yep, Professor Starrick’s a right bastard.”

Jacob strongly suspected Aleck was paraphrasing. Henry was too polite to use that kind of language.

“Hey,” Malik said, knocking on the door of the new bloke’s room. “We’re getting dinner, you want to come with?”

Jacob could hear music from inside, but there was no reply. Malik shrugged.

“Guess he’s busy,” Aleck said cheerfully. “Let’s go, it’s happy hour at Shannon’s.”

“Aleck, you’re not legal here.”

“Let the man dream, Evie.”

“The non-alcoholic drinks are half-price too,” Aleck said. “And there’s free chips with every entree.”

“Count me _in_,” Jacob said. He slung an arm around Aleck’s shoulder and dragged him towards the door. Behind them, Malik laughed.

  
—

  
Somehow, it had been a full week since he’d moved in, and still no one had seen hide nor hair of their elusive sixth suitemate. Either the boy was staying in his room twenty-four-seven, or he was leaving it through the window. There was no other way he could completely avoid everyone.

Right now, however, Malik had more important things to worry about. The o-chem test scores were being posted tonight, and he was hoping for good news to give his baby brother.

Malik sat at his laptop, clicking the refresh button as he waited for the grades to go up. And then, finally, they were posted. Malik scanned the list quickly and found his student number with ease—his was the second highest score in the class. Seventy-eight point three percent. An A+.  
He was just about to close the pdf when his competitive spirit stopped him. The top score belonged to someone with the student ID A73106651. Eighty-three point five percent. A full five points higher than his own score, and yet low enough that Malik was certain they hadn’t cheated. Or they were smart enough about cheating to make sure it wasn’t obvious. Either way, Malik found himself fighting the urge to go cram another chapter of material.

Sighing, Malik closed his laptop and sent Kadar a quick text. His brother replied instantly with smiley faces and exclamation points.

**shadar** **kaidar**: OMG CONGRATS!!!

Malik smiled to himself and texted Desmond.

>> _aced_ _my_ _midterm_

>> _let’s_ _get_ _dinner?_

**Des**: _You_ _paying?_

>> _no._

**Des**: _Lmao ok. Let’s go_

Malik grabbed his wallet and keys and stepped out into the common room. He paused at the sound of the Sixth’s voice coming from his room. They’d taken to calling him that since no one knew the guy’s name. It sounded like the Sixth was on the phone with someone. He was speaking in fast and fluent Arabic.

“Yes, of course. I have top marks in all my classes, stop worrying. Yes. I will. I know. Thank you. Goodnight.”

Whoever he was talking to, the guy sounded extremely pleased with himself. Malik could practically hear the smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

Malik pulled up in front of Desmond’s building and sent him a text to tell Desmond he’d arrived. Desmond appeared a minute later, sliding into Malik’s passenger seat and buckling himself in.

“Where we eating?”

“Kbbq?” 

Desmond grinned. “Drive, I’ll put on music.”

“How’s Connor?” Malik asked as he pulled out of the campus parking lot and turned onto the main street. It was late and the streets were mostly clear. About an hour earlier, and traffic would have been crawling like a parapalegiac centipede. 

“Grumpy. He reminds me of you.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, you asked. He’s alright once you get him talking. How’s the Sixth?”

“I have no idea,” Malik said. “I still haven’t seen him.”

Desmond hummed in amusement. “What is he, a ghost?”

“Might as well be at this point.” Malik was curious, of course. 

Who wouldn’t be? The guy didn’t show up until a third of the way through the term, never showed his face, and—if he was to be believed—was a top student. And no one even knew his name. All Malik really knew was that he spoke Arabic. Malik was still thinking about the mystery of the Sixth suitemate when their food arrived. Desmond jabbed him back to reality with his chopsticks.

“Fuck you,” Malik growled. “I’m leaving you here.”

“_Noooo_,” Desmond laughed. “What am I gonna doooo. You want to get boba after?”

“Obviously.”

They ate until they were stuffed. Malik snatched the last piece of pork belly and stuck his tongue out at Desmond when his best friend failed to get to it in time. Technically speaking, Malik was Muslim, but he was closer to agnostic at this point. He certainly didn’t keep halal very well. Pork belly and coffee were two things he refused to live without. 

They split the bill and left a generous tip before stepping out of the restaurant. The boba shop was only a minute walk down the street, and that was just their favorite one. There was another across the street, and another down the block. There were also five different ice cream places within walking distance. Two of them were bingsoo cafes, and one of them sold waffles and honey toast. Malik loved K-town. 

Desmond got himself a mango green tea while Malik ordered a burnt caramel milk tea with a shot of espresso. He needed the caffeine to stay up studying tonight for his neuro-phys test. Quarter system was the absolute worst.

“Has Jacob figured out that Aleck likes him yet?” Desmond asked as they waited for their drinks.

“Nope.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“_Nope_.”

Desmond snorted and shook his head. “You’re evil.”

“Listen, either Jacob realizes it himself,” Malik said, “or Aleck will work up the guts to tell him. And if he doesn’t and Jacob never figures it out, that’s his own fault.”

Desmond winced in sympathy. “Is it that bad?”

Malik groaned and dragged his hand over his face. “It’s _awful_. Were we ever that oblivious? Tell me we weren’t.”

Desmond didn’t answer right away. He went to grab their drinks and took a long sip first. “Well, you don’t get crushes, and it took like, two hours for me and Lucy to hit it off, so I think we’re outliers and should not be counted.”

Malik snorted and chewed on his boba pensively. “Aleck keeps making puppy eyes at him, and Jacob just sits there and listens to Aleck ramble about his projects. It’s almost adorable.”

_Almost_. Mostly, it was painful to watch. Still, it wasn't his problem. Not to mention the fact that Evie had expressly forbidden him from interfering with her entertainment. Malik figured it was entertaining the way an inevitable trainwreck was: he could see the disaster coming from a mile away, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Malik sipped on his tea and quietly buzzed as the caffeine kicked in.

—

Jacob grumbled loudly in protest as Evie’s morning alarm went off. She yawned and turned it off before swinging herself out of bed. The sky outside was cornflower blue, and the birds were warbling away. Evie had always been an early riser, much to Jacob’s disgust. 

Evie changed into a clean pair of black leggings and a black tank top. She brushed out her hair and tied it in a neat ponytail. The weather app on her phone told her that it was cold enough to warrant a jacket. She chose a light windbreaker and left her room. 

The common room was empty as usual, but the door to the balcony was slightly cracked. Her partner was already waiting outside. He had his hood up and the lower half of his face covered as usual. The first time Evie had run into him, they had both been leaving their rooms at the crack of dawn. They had spent a moment staring at each other before Evie asked if he wanted company.

_“Sure, if you can keep up.”_

He probably wasn’t expecting her to do just that as he swung himself off the balcony like he did now. Evie caught the railing of the balcony below and made her way down to the pavement. They each chose their own paths before meeting at the bottom. 

Evie bumped Sixth’s shoulder before running towards the nearest wall. She leapt and caught the top of it, hauling herself up with practiced ease. They raced each other, picking the trickiest routes possible. Nothing in the immediate area of their dorm provided much of a challenge, but the engineering buildings were tall and closely grouped. Even better, they were open all day long. Roof access was trickier, but she and Sixth figured that his stolen keycard would last a few more time before the system shut them out.

They took the elevator halfway up before sneaking into the stairwell. The last five floors were a breeze, the railings providing the perfect handholds. At the top, Sixth held the stolen card against the keypad and waited. The lock clicked. 

Evie shared a grin with him before swinging the door open and slipping out onto the roof. It was a dizzying view, though this was not the highest Evie had ever been. The Sixth tapped her shoulder and nodded his head towards the other buildings. 

They ran, leapt, launched themselves from rooftop to rooftop, the wind tugging at their bodies. Evie pushed the pace, opting for the more difficult crossings. There still wasn’t quite as much variety as she liked, and they were back to where they began all too soon.

The door had swung closed while they were running, so Sixth tapped his card against the pad. The light blinked red and beeped angrily. He tried again, with the same result.

“Shit,” he laughed. 

Evie grinned. Now _this_ would be a challenge. She scanned the surrounding buildings for a path downward and settled on the computer science building. It had the greatest number of closely-spaced safe handholds, and there were awnings around the base that might cushion them if they fell. The only problem was that it was the computer science building, which housed the school’s supercomputing center. They would have to be fast if they didn’t want to do some extensive explaining to security.

“Ready?” Evie asked.

“Whenever you are.”

She grinned again. “Then let’s go.”

Evie took off, not bothering to check if Sixth was following. She reached the roof of the compsci building and began her descent. There were several layers of odd decorative panels jutting out from the walls, then window ledges below those. From there, Evie inched her way over to what looked like a ventilation outlet. Warm air swirled over her knuckles as she used it to lower herself to another section of decorative panels. 

The ground was only thirty feet away when Evie’s foot slipped on a ledge. She recovered her footing quickly, but not without banging her knee into the window. She swore as someone inside dragged the blind out of the way and cried bloody murder. 

There was no time to keep climbing. Evie checked her positioning and dropped. She landed on the awning with a thump and slid down to the edge before falling off. She managed to land on her feet and stepped sideways as Sixth landed right where she had been standing.

Above them, they could still hear yelling. Evie shared a look with Sixth.

“Run!” he yelled gleefully. 

When they were finally certain that they had lost their pursuers, they stumbled to a halt and leaned against a wall, chests heaving from the exertion. Sixth lifted his fist and Evie bumped it, laughing in triumph. She pulled off her jacket and turned it inside out before letting down her hair. 

Sixth huffed through his facemask, clearly grinning. He unzipped his jacket but didn’t lower his hood. Evie wasn’t sure why the boy insisted on keeping his face covered, but she didn’t ask. Everyone had their quirks. 

“Well, that was fun,” Sixth said. “But we need a new playground.”

“I’ve got some ideas.”

“Same time tomorrow, then?”

“Obviously.”

—

The neuro-phys exam was easier than Malik had expected, and he was the first person to finish, even after taking an extra five minutes to check over his answers again. He turned in his test and was headed back up the stairs to grab his bag when he nearly collided with Desmond.

Malik blinked. What was Desmond doing in this class? He stood frozen in confusion until Desmond raised an eyebrow at him and stepped around him. Snapping back into motion, Malik quickly grabbed his bag and hurried out of the room to wait at the door.

Desmond, who Malik was now fairly sure wasn’t Desmond at all, came out a few seconds after. He spotted Malik and raised his eyebrow again. 

The resemblance was uncanny. Everything from his slightly hooked nose and sharp cheekbones to his olive skin and amber eyes were exactly the same as Desmond’s. They even had identical lip scars. But now that Malik looked closer, he could see that it really wasn’t his best friend. This boy’s hair was longer, his nose a little crooked like it had been broken once or twice, his frame smaller and thinner. He dressed differently too. Desmond wore the same white zipper hoodie and grey skate shoes every day. This guy had on a grey coat and black leather boots.

“Can I help you?” Not-Desmond said in a smooth British accent that Malik recognized immediately.

“You’re the guy in the other single in my suite.”

“Oh, I see. Altair Ibn La’Ahad.”

“Son of no one?” Malik echoed. 

Altair inclined his head, wearing a slight smirk. “You speak Arabic?”

“My parents immigrated from Palestine. Malik Al Sayf. Why the edgy last name?”

“My father was a Syrian refugee that I never knew because the British government sent him back to die,” Altar answered flatly. He wielded his words like they were knives. “My mother gave me up for adoption when I was born. Why are you staring at me like that? You feel bad for me?”

Malik resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “No, asshole. I’m staring because you look exactly like someone I know.” He took out his phone and found a recent selfie they’d taken in front of the sixties-era Brutalist monstrosity of a student library. “See?”

Altair frowned at the photo. “That’s a bit creepy.”

“I know. His name is Desmond. You want to meet him?”

“Sure,” Altair said with a frown. 

Malik texted Desmond as they walked.

_>> hey come to the food court_

**Des: ** _Why, what’s up?_

_>> Sixth is with me_

**Des: ** _On my way_

Desmond arrived after Malik and Altair had already gotten their food and found a table in the campus Starbucks. Malik wasn’t sure how that happened—the place was always packed when he came looking for a place to study.

To his credit, Desmond only blinked twice before sitting down across from Altair. The two of them stared at each other, Desmond obviously confused and Altair unreadable. 

“This is Sixth?” Desmond asked carefully.

“You’re _Desmond_?” Altair asked, like he was suggesting Desmond’s name was something else entirely.

“Are you—are you real?” Desmond asked. “Altair?”

That was when Malik realized that perhaps he had underestimated how much the universe liked to fuck with him. Desmond looked like a lost child, while Altair’s mouth was set in a hard line. 

“Do you even remember your own name?” Altair asked sharply. 

“Darim,” Desmond answered immediately. “It was Darim. I thought I _imagined _you.”

Altair took a swig of his soda and shrugged. “No, you just got lucky. I got bounced around in foster homes.”

Desmond blinked slowly before standing up. “Excuse me, I need to make a call.”

Altair waved his cup. “Go ahead.” Once Desmond had stepped out, he turned his head toward Malik and stared at him appraisingly. “How long have you known him?”

“We met freshman year. How come you’re never at the dorm?”

“I have a very active social life,” Altair said with a smirk. “I like clubs.”

“You’re clubbing during midterms?” Malik asked in disbelief. 

“What can I say? That’s where all the pretty girls are,” Altair answered. “Well, not _all_ of them. I don’t think Evie Frye goes clubbing.”

“You’re right, she doesn’t,” Malik said, unable to keep his distaste from showing. 

“Are you dating her?”

“I don’t need to be to find your attitude disgusting. And no, I'm not particularly interested in dating a freshman.”

Altair immediately wrinkled his nose. “Oh, nevermind. I thought she was older,” he said, leaning forward to steal one of Malik’s fries. “Do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, if that’s your thing.”

“I don’t date,” Malik said, spearing a piece of Altair’s orange chicken with his fork. It was delicious in a disgusting way, sweet and vinegary and composed mostly of breading. “I don’t get along with most people.”

“I can’t imagine why that might be. You’re such great company.”

“Ha ha,” Malik said, ignoring Altair’s shit-eating grin. “What classes are you taking?”

“O-chem, neuro-phys, psychology of drugs.”

“You’re pre-med?”

Altair shrugged. “I am. You?”

“Same. How have I never seen you around before?” Malik asked. “Those are upper division classes.”

“I’ve been completing courses remotely for the last two years,” Altair said. “Had to sort some things out back in London before I could attend in person.”

“I wasn’t aware our school did that.”

Altair’s grin widened. “They made an exception for me. I guess they were impressed with my potential.”

Malik pretended to gag. The boy was so full of himself. “What did you get on the o-chem midterm?”

“I haven’t looked,” Altair said with a shrug. 

“Don’t you want to know how you did? The average was abysmal.”

“Either I passed or I didn’t, and I’m pretty sure I passed.”

“You’re not worried about your gpa?”

“I’m a junior with straight A’s. What’s one B plus going to do? Drop it to a three point nine?” Altair asked. So not only was the guy full of himself, he was full of himself and annoyingly confident about it. “Looks like your friend is done with his phone call.”

Desmond sat down just as Altair said that, his face twisted into a grimace. That was his “just talked to William” face. Malik gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“How’d it go?”

“Not great,” Desmond told him. “I’m still kind of in shock that my imaginary twin brother is actually my very real twin brother.”

Malik only caught the angry twist of Altair’s mouth because he was already looking at him. It was gone in an instant, replaced by more cool arrogance. 

“So, it’s confirmed?” 

Desmond nodded. “My father only wanted one child.”

“How did he choose?” Altair asked, leaning back in his chair. He slouched in his seat like a displeased prince, the tilt of his head threatening execution while his eyes said he wasn’t above doing the deed himself. 

Desmond, on the other hand, looked like someone had just made him swallow battery acid. There was anger in his eyes too, but it was largely drowned out by extreme discomfort. Desmond finally sighed, “He flipped a coin.”

The arrogance left Altair’s face in an instant, leaving behind only ice and fury. He and Malik burst to their feet at the same time. Malik pushed him back to stop him from overturning the table.

“Don’t you dare take this out on Desmond,” Malik warned. “Sit down.”

Altair was unfazed. “Or what?” He looked ready to rip someone’s throat open. 

“Or I will haul your ass outside and make you.”

Altair rolled his shouders back and grinned, his eyes flashing like he relished the threat. Maybe he did. Maybe he was some kind of masochist. “Oh, I’d love to see you try.”

Malik grabbed him by the arm and shoved him toward the exit.

“You want a fight? Fine. Let’s fight.”

Desmond didn’t even get the chance to protest. Altair started swinging as soon as they were outside. He was slender, but every punch he threw fell like a hammer blow. Malik blinked away stars when he took a blow to the face, but he managed to grab Altair and knee him in the gut. After weeks of sparring with the Frye twins, Malik had no trouble countering Altair’s punches. He traded hit after hit with the boy until his fist connected with Altair’s mouth. He could feel his knuckles split open on the other boy’s teeth even as blood stained Altair’s manic smile. 

“Enough!” Desmond grabbed Malik by the shoulder and dragged him back. “Why are you guys even fighting?”

Altair spat on the ground and licked his teeth, his eyes still locked with Malik’s. “Sorry, _Dessy_,” he said mockingly. “I shouldn’t beat up my brother’s friends.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Desmond snapped, as if Altair was being serious. That earned him a confused look. “Don’t do that again.”

Altair blinked at Desmond slowly before straightening up. Malik could see his shoulders relaxing as he turned to face his brother. “Alright, I won’t. I don’t have any classes left today if you want to walk back to the dorm with us,” he said.

“Us?” Malik echoed, quirking his eyebrow. 

“Are you not done with classes? Your cheek looks pretty bad. I have ice in my fridge,” Altair said, all of a sudden as gracious as a saint. Malik looked from him to Desmond and realized that Altair was trying to play nice for Desmond’s benefit.

“We’re in front of a food court, I can get ice right now,” Malik conceded.

Altair made another weird face before shaking his head. “I’ll grab it. You and Desmond needed to talk, right?”

He turned away without waiting for an answer. Malik sputtered for a minute before wheeling on Desmond. 

“Did your dad really flip a coin?”

“Yeah. Apparently he and my mom figured someone else would want Altair. He said they didn’t ‘budget’ for two kids,” Desmond spat. “Like William fucking Miles needs to budget for anything. He owns a helicopter and a yacht. He could’ve afforded to raise a second kid.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence and found a place to sit while they waited for Altair to return. When he did, he was carrying two backpacks and a box of half-eaten chow mein, along with two plastic baggies full of ice. He wordlessly deposited Malik’s backpack at his feet. Leaning down, he pressed one of the ice packs to Malik’s swollen cheekbone. Malik flinched at the cold and grabbed the ice pack, swatting Altair’s hand away. Desmond, traitor that he was, sat there and laughed. Altair just kept watching him, ice pressed to his own mouth. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be editing and uploading another chapter today, so stay tuned for that.

Malik Al Sayf. Same year, same major, and better with his fists than anyone else Altair had ever fought. He was almost tempted to pick another fight with the boy, just to have Malik focused on beating him to a pulp, bearing down on him with that vicious glare. It was not a very healthy impulse. 

Altair restrained himself for Dar—Desmond’s sake. He didn't know anyone could make him feel shame until Desmond had given him that disappointed look after breaking up his fight with Malik. If his old crew could see him now, they'd laugh at their heads off at his meekness. But Desmond seemed like the kind of person who volunteered at soup kitchens and rescued puppies out of cardboard boxes. The kind of person that Altair couldn’t even aspire to be.

Malik, on the other hand, was the most angry, bitter person Altair knew aside from himself. Altair came to this conclusion after listening to Malik vent about their o-chem TA for a solid half-hour. Which apparently had something to do with why Malik was in Altair’s room instead of at tutorial. _ Altair _ wasn't at tutorial because he made it a rule never to attend a section that wasn't mandatory. 

“—He’s such a patronizing, entitled jerkface!”

“I’m confused, what exactly did this guy do?” Altair asked, having spaced out towards the end.

Malik threw his hands up in exasperation and fell back onto Altair’s bed. It had been five weeks since their fight, and the bruise on his cheek was completely faded now. Without it, Malik’s face was all sharp angles and hard planes smoothed over by warm brown skin. 

“He grabbed my ass and asked me if I wanted ‘extra credit,’” Malik scoffed. “As if I need the points. I have the second highest grade in the class!”

“He groped you?” Altair asked, spinning his chair around to face Malik, who didn’t even sit up.

“Yeah, and he got up in my face and—Altair? Altair, no,” Malik said flatly, lifting his head to glare at him. “Don’t even think about it. I can deal with him myself if I need to. Besides, what do you care?”

Altair opened his mouth to argue, but Malik was right. Malik was perfectly capable of beating up creeps by himself. But Malik was too obnoxiously honorable to have to put up with this kind of shit. Pricks with no respect for boundaries were supposed to be Altair's domain.

“You should tell our professor what happened.”

“That won’t help. The other people in our section saw it happen and _ laughed_.”

“Fine, but if it happens again, you have to take it up with the school.”

Malik rolled his eyes but agreed. “Fine. Now help me with this fucking problem, my brain is fried.”

Altair shoved him over and joined him on the bed, skimming over the question quickly. Malik had already gotten most of the way to the solution. It barely took any help from Altair for him to get it, for all that his brain was supposedly ‘fried.’ 

The guy was smart as hell, after all. Altair had checked his test score the night after their fight, and while he held the top position, Malik wasn’t far behind. They were tied for first place in neuro-phys, and Altair couldn’t help feeling just the tiniest bit competitive. Maybe more than a bit. Alright, a lot more than a bit. No one else had ever come close to challenging him before. 

“Did you tell Kadar what happened?” Altair asked.

“Absolutely not,” Malik said, putting his pen down and turning the full force of his glare onto Altair. “He would just go running to the fucking chancellor.”

“Sounds like a smart kid.”

“Shut up. Ugh. Text Des and tell him to be ready in five minutes, we’re getting drinks.”

“On a school night?” Altair teased. He had been genuinely surprised the first time, before realizing that Malik meant milk tea in an absurdly cute cafe and not cocktails at one of the many excellent bars downtown. It was a little funny that Malik ate pork but avoided alcohol—though according to Desmond, he did drink on rare occasions. “Can we go to the place in Town Center? I want to grab some baklava for the suite.”

“Sure,” Malik answered as he tied his shoes. “We can split the bill.”

“Stop trying to be noble,” Altair said as they left his room. “I can pay for it myself.”

“Do you want baklava or not? We’re splitting the bill.”

“I swear to god, I will send the payment right back.”

“Then I’ll shove the cash in your wallet. Just buy me a fucking coffee tomorrow before class,” Malik said, rolling his eyes.

The door to Jacob and Evie’s room cracked open, and Evie poked her head out. “You going for drinks, Malik?”

“Yeah, you want to come with?”

“Yes, please. This reading is killing my brain, and Jacob does not need any help with that.” 

Altair snorted. He liked Jacob and his excitable nature. He was like a crow jumping around just for fun. Frankly, it was an enviable way to go through life. And it wasn’t like Jacob was actually stupid. He picked up material quickly once it was explained to him the right way. He also just had a very bad habit of not turning in his homework. Evie was trying to break him out of it with little success.

“Is Henry tutoring him again?”

“Yes, although I suspect Aleck has probably monopolized his attention again,” Evie said with a sigh. Her coat tails fluttered behind her as they walked to Malik’s car. “I’m going to kill him if he’s the reason Jacob fails calculus.”

“Does Jacob still not—”

“_ No _,” Evie and Malik grumbled in unison. 

“_ How? _ ” Altair asked. “Aleck’s basically got heart-eyes every time they’re in the same room, which is _ all the time _.”

“Don’t ask me,” Evie said with a long-suffering look. “I swear, he’s going to end up breaking poor Aleck’s heart at this rate.”

Evie claimed the front seat, which Altair gave up with little protest. He had a soft spot her that he would never admit to, if only because he couldn’t shake the paranoia he’d picked up during his time with the Blighters. Soft spots were weakness, and anyone he cared about had been fair game for foul play. 

“Hey guys,” Desmond said as he slid into the backseat behind Evie. He was a tiny bit taller than Altair, likely because his growing years had not been plagued with malnutrition. It meant Desmond got the seat with slightly more legroom.

“How was dinner last night?” Altair asked. Desmond had mentioned having to meet his parents. 

“Awkward. It’s always awkward. But my mom wants to meet you.”

“What about daddy dearest?” 

Desmond wrinkled his nose. “He’s not keen on you turning up. I think he doesn’t like being reminded that he used to be even more of a fucking dick than he is now.”

“Tough shit. I’m not going anywhere,” Altair said. “I want to meet your mum. She nice?”

“Yeah, she’s nice. I think you’ll like her.”

“I know I’ve said this before,” Evie interrupted from the front seat, “but it is so strange hearing Desmond talking to himself but British and angry.”

Malik snorted as Desmond leaned against the car window and smiled. Altair found himself grinning back. He’d been by himself for so long, but now he was in a car full of friends, laughing with the brother he’d been missing since he was only four.

—

“You know, if you’re going to be going on runs _ every morning _,” Jacob had groaned from beneath his pillow two weeks ago, “you should film yourselves. Bet you could make some money off of it.”

Which was how Evie ended up placing an order for a pair of body cameras later that day after a brief discussion with Altair. They had finally arrived today, and she and Altair were unboxing them in the common room when Malik and Jacob walked in.

“Oh, did they come today?” Jacob asked. He plopped down on the couch. 

“They did,” Evie said, unable to resist smiling.

Malik sat down on the floor with his mug of coffee and asked, “What did?”

Altair excised the camera from its packaging with a scalpel—craft, not medical—and held it up to show Malik. “Cameras. Me and Evie are going to film our morning runs.”

“Since when do you go on morning runs,” Malik said, yawning. “And why are you filming them?”

“Since week three,” Evie said, smiling as Malik realized he hadn’t been the first of them to meet Altair. Though in all fairness, Evie hadn’t learned Altair’s name until he came back to the dorm with a swollen lip and a twin brother. “We had to change routes, so I’m not sure how interesting our videos will be, but we’ll be freerunning.”

“What, like parkour and shit?” Malik asked with another yawn. “I’ve done a bit of that before. You two are probably much better at it.”

“You should come with us tomorrow,” Altair said. He laughed when Evie flashed him a warning look. “That is, if you can keep up.”

“How early are we talking?”

“Five thirty in the fucking morning,” Jacob grumbled from the couch. “_ Every _ morning.”

“Not on weekends,” Altair corrected him. 

“Maybe _ you _ don’t, but Evie sure as hell does.”

Altair clapped his hand to his heart and turned a look of mock hurt on her. “How could you? I’ve been betrayed by my very own partner in crime.” 

Malik slapped the back of his head. “Are you going to be posting these somewhere?” he asked.

“Youtube, probably,” Altair said. “We’ll have to cover our faces. It actually is illegal.”

“You should have codenames!” Jacob said excitedly. He rolled onto his side and gave Evie’s shoulder a slight shove. “You could call yourselves the _ Rooks _.”

Evie rolled her eyes. “Jacob, we are _not_ calling ourselves the Rooks.”

“He’s right about the codenames though,” Altair said indulgently. “It’ll add to our appeal.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Evie said. “But let’s say we do need codenames. What do you want to be called?”

“Ace? You could be Queen, and Malik would be King,” Altair said.

“I can’t be Rook if you’re Ace,” Jacob whined. “Why not Bishop?”

“Do I look like a diagonal clergyman to you?” Altair deadpanned. He ignored everyone’s furrowed brows. “Do we really have to go with the chess names? You could be Jack if we did playing cards.”

Jacob pantomimed gagging. “God, no.”

“Just do _ both _,” Malik interjected. “Let the viewers fight over it. Who gives a shit.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jacob said. “You get to be King.”

“Are you even coming? I thought it was too early for you,” Evie said, raising her eyebrow at her brother. 

“I might,” Jacob insisted. 

Altair sighed and gave in. “_ Fine _, I can go by Knight. Are we all happy now?”

Evie smiled as she tested her camera. Malik might call him an asshole, and he certainly acted like one at times, but Altair was also generous and eager to make others smile. Evie suspected that was the point of the constant teasing. It was the only way he could get any reaction out of Malik. 

The video was incredibly sharp for such a small device. Now the issue was how to rig the thing so she could move freely but still get good clips. The idea of a headband was unappealing, but it would have to do for now until she figured out a better solution. Perhaps Aleck could help her figure something out later. 

“Before I forget,” Altair said, jumping to his feet abruptly. He went into his room and returned shortly after, holding a large, lumpy package wrapped in black and gold patterned paper. He tossed it to her. “Since you got the cameras, I got you some gear.”

Evie borrowed Altair’s scalpel and split open the tape. She pulled back the paper to reveal a folded windbreaker. It was black with white sleeves and shimmery blue-green chevrons on the chest and sleeves. The detachable hood was seamed diagonally to look like two overlapping panels, stitched in deep blue. But the most important features were the deep zippered pockets. She opened them and found a small piece of fabric in one. She shook it open and found herself holding a facemask made of the same iridescent blue-green polymer as the chevrons.

“Try them on,” Jacob said eagerly.

Evie rolled her eyes but did as he asked. The windbreaker fit perfectly, a little loose in the torso and light as a feather. The mask looped neatly behind her ears, with ties for extra security. 

“Very nice,” Altair said. “Truly fit for a Queen.”

Malik punched him in the arm. “Get your garbage puns out of here, you _ animal _.”

“As you wish, my liege,” Altair said, running his tongue over his teeth with a devilish grin. 

Malik carefully set his mug down on the coffee table before twisting around and tackling Altair. The two of them scuffled while Jacob egged them on with whoops and cheers. Evie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. She took off the mask and windbreaker while the boys settled things. Her mouth quirked as she ran her hand over the strips of iridescent blue. 

It finally ended with Altair sprawled on top of Malik as the other boy try to shove him off. Jacob whistled suggestively, which earned him a deadly glare from Malik. Altair rolled off of him and lay on the floor laughing. 

“I hate you,” Malik growled. 

Altair sat up and made a quarter turn before flopping back down so his head rested on Malik’s stomach. Malik scowled but didn’t move. 

“Thank you for the gift, Altair.”

“Anything for you, my Queen,” Altair replied with a flourish of his hand. 

Malik made a choking sound and slapped Altair’s shoulder. “Could you control yourself for one fucking minute?”

“What?” Altair protested. “I’m just expressing my platonic affection for a dear friend. Why, are you jealous?”

“You wish,” Malik said. “Kiss my ass.”

“I mean, if you’re into that kind of thing,” Altair joked, jabbing Malik’s hipbone with a finger. “Just need you to roll over.”

“Fuck off.”

Evie couldn’t help smiling at the two upperclassmen. They unquestionably friends despite their constant verbal sparring. If Malik was a snarling wolf, then Altair was an over-excited fox testing his patience. There were times though, when they settled into a quiet camaraderie. It was clear in those moments that they had set themselves apart from everyone else. 

“Boys, if you’re all done, I had an idea. We could be birds instead of playing cards or chess pieces,” Evie said, holding up the windbreaker. “I think I like Magpie better than Queen. And Jacob could still be Rook.”

Altair cocked his head, intrigued by the suggestion. “What would I be?”

“_ Eagle _, you fucking novice,” Malik snapped. “It’s literally your name.”

“I like the sound of that,” Altair said, ignoring the insult. “You could be . . . What kind of bird is angry and mean? Goose? _Don’t_ hit me. What about Raven? They’re clever bastards, just like you.”

Malik smacked Altair’s arm again but smiled at his new moniker. “Rook, Raven, Eagle, and Magpie. This might actually be good.”

Evie had to agree.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I going to mention every character in the damn AssCreed universe? Very possibly.  
I promise the parkour is relevant, btw.

Despite Jacob’s enthusiasm the day before, he spent the entire car ride grumbling about having to wake up early. Evie and Altair had already scouted out a place to test out the cameras, and Malik somehow scraped together enough functioning brain cells to suggest that they drive there instead of running an extra four miles from campus and another four miles back. Evie was as calmly poised as ever, and the early hour seemed to have absolutely zero effect on Altair’s ego. 

Malik smacked him when he tried to put his feet up on the dashboard. 

“Keep your shoes off my dash, asshole.”

“Can I at least put on some music?”

Malik rolled his eyes before sighing. “Fine. But it better be good or I’m banning you from the front seat for a month.”

“Oh, the horror,” Altair said flatly. He plugged in his phone and selected a playlist. “You like this one.”

By the time they reached the address Evie had given him, Malik was squinting in suspicion. There had only been enough time to play through three songs, but they were perfectly aligned with his taste in music. He grabbed Altair’s phone before the other boy could retrieve it from the cupholder. 

“Oh my god, you have a playlist for me,” Malik said with a teasing smirk. “You in love with me or something, Eagle?”

Altair punched him in the arm and seized his phone. “I have a playlist for _ everyone _,” he said, scowling. 

Everyone exited the car and stretched, Jacob yawning and Altair bouncing on the balls of his feet. Malik had parked in an empty lot at the top of the beach cliffs. Below them was a narrow strip of sand, and above were a cluster of hillside mansions. Evie took out her camera and signalled for everyone to put on their masks. She turned the camera on and counted down as the light blinked before beginning.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to our morning run. For our introductory video, we’ll be taking an easy lap of the neighborhood. I’m Magpie,” she said in a startlingly good West Coast accent before turning the camera toward Altair.

“I’m Eagle.”

“I’m Rook.”

“And I’m Raven.”

Evie turned the camera back on herself. “You’re probably wondering why we all have masks. That question will be answered very soon. Anyway, we haven’t got all day, so we’ll just get to it.”

Malik whistled once the camera was switched off again. “You’re a natural,” he said as he helped her afix the camera to the band around her forehead. 

“If it were anyone else, I’d think you were hitting on them,” Altair drawled. Malik kicked him without turning around, his heel connecting with Altair’s shin. “Violence is not the answer.”

“I swear to god, Altair, I will cut your tongue out and feed it to a cat,” Malik said. The boy didn’t even have the grace to look stupid with a camera strapped to his forehead. 

“It’s probably worth more as cat food anyway,” Evie said, slapping Altair’s back. 

“Do you even have a knife?” Altair demanded, pulling his mask down to stick his tongue out at Evie. Malik flicked his wrist and opened his pocket knife with quiet _ shnick _ in answer. 

“Yes.”

“Well, aren't you just full of surprises?” Jacob remarked.

“Enough. Put the knife away. Cameras are on in three,” Evie interrupted. She switched on her camera and turned towards them. “I’ll take lead. Try to keep up.”

With that, she was off, jogging up the road towards the mansions. So that was what she meant by ‘the neighborhood.’ Malik buried his misgivings about trespassing on a millionaire’s property while wearing a mask. With any luck, Altair would be the first one shot. What was most likely was he and Evie had done their jobs well and made sure there was no major risk of getting caught.

It took about two minutes to reach their target, which was one of the largest of the mansions. The staggered stories sprawled like a palace, palm trees and fountains and high pointed archways giving the Spanish revival style a distinctly Moorish flavor. It was the perfect landscape for a filmed run, with plenty of shifts in elevation and beautiful views in every direction.

As promised, Evie chose a simple route, taking them over the wall enclosing the property and up the gravel driveway to where an enormous round fountain sat splashing away, a fleet of miniature bronze ships bobbing on the surface. 

Altair fished one out and stuck in his pocket. 

“Eagle,” Malik said in warning.

“Oh come on, it’s just one ship,” he said. He hadn’t said enough for Malik to notice before, but he had also adopted an American accent. Without his usual rounded vowels and softened consonants, he sounded even more like Desmond than usual.

“Put it back,” Evie called without looking back, sounding for all the world like a teacher talking to a small child.

Altair was probably pouting behind his mask, but he set the ship back in the water before following Evie up to the colonnade that went around the side of the mansion. They used the low wall of a raised flower bed to launch themselves up to the banistered walkway above. Malik and Jacob followed without too much difficulty but considerably less finesse. 

From the walkway, Evie ran up a wall and hauled herself onto a small patio, and then up further onto a wall that was lined with potted plants. She somehow managed to climb up between them without knocking any over. She swung then herself up onto the balcony just beside it.

Altair followed first, also neatly avoiding the pots and joining Evie on the balcony. They shared a look before nodding to each other. Without further ado, they leaned backwards, legs hooked over the railing, and each grabbed hold of a pot to make space for Malik and Jacob. Once the boys had joined them, they leaned back over and replaced the pots in exactly the same places.

The rest of the run followed in the same manner, Evie and Altair scouting the path, deciding on which climbs and leaps would be doable for everyone. They quickly found themselves at the very top of the mansion 

Jacob scanned the area in curiosity. “Does this place not have security?” he asked. His voice was different as well, but instead of taking on an American persona, he’d simply altered his intonation. He sounded like Evie, with her polished pronunciation and smooth tone. 

“The owner is away on vacation, and housekeeping only comes by on Fridays,” Altair answered. “There’s no external security right now, just an internal alarm system and cameras at the front entrance. We’re cutting that out of the video before we post it.”

“Oi, look at that sky,” Jacob said, his attention already moving on.

Malik looked east to find the sun coming up behind the hills and painting the sky with soft pinks and oranges. It made the pale white walls of the mansion glow buttery yellow. Evie and Altair cut striking silhouettes against the light. 

To the west, the sky was still a dusty blue, but the water rippled with flashes of gold and steel. It was breathtaking from here, standing atop the grey-tiled roof. 

“Gorgeous view, isn’t it?” Altair said from behind him. “Oh, and I guess the water is pretty too.”

Malik pivoted and flipped him off. Jacob laughed and slung an arm around each of them. 

“Now now, boys, what has Magpie said about fighting?” he scolded them jokingly. 

“Absolutely nothing, Rook,” Evie said, coming around to flick her brother’s forehead. “It’s time to head down.”

She took off without waiting, and Altair quickly slipped free of Jacob to follow her. The way down was easier, though the drops were still far enough that Malik had to fully concentrate on every landing. By the end of it, they were sweaty and pleasantly weary, cooling and drying off before they all climbed back into Malik’s car. 

Evie shed her jacket and splashed water on herself before towelling off quickly. Jacob and Malik peeled off their shirts and did the same. Altair only rucked up the hem of his shirt to let his torso cool off. The sleeves remained.

Malik eyed Altair curiously. He had a surprising amount of scars, some of them thick and puckered like they had been poorly sutured or gotten infected before they had fully healed. 

A jab to his ribs dragged Malik’s attention away. Jacob put an arm around him shoulders and stage whispered, “You liking what you see?”

“I can and will drop-kick you, Jacob.”

“Come on, you know his standards are too high for me to meet,” Altair said with a laugh. He gave Malik a sidelong glance, letting his gaze linger pointedly on Malik’s waist, his smirk just begging to be punched off his face. 

“Are you done fantasizing, Altair?” Malik asked flatly. “Get in the fucking car.”

While they were bickering, Evie had changed into normal clothes, running shoes traded for low-heel boots and sweats replaced by black shorts. She’d even managed to put her hair up. Malik put on a clean shirt and fresh socks before shutting the trunk of his car. 

They drove to a diner in the beachside neighborhood nearby, wandering in through the back entrance with yawns and good-natured teasing. It was a cute place with wide bay windows overlooking the ocean and nautical-themed decor. It was too early to be crowded just yet, and they were seated immediately. Malik caught Altair frowning at the windows but put it out of his mind. There was no point wondering what was going on in his head. 

Their food came out, and they got caught up in eating and recounting their favorite moments of the morning. In the past two years, Malik had never done anything even close to this reckless, nor had he ever had this much fun. The staff smiled indulgently at them, no doubt amused by their little quartet of mischievous smiles and massive appetites. 

—

Their videos blew up overnight. They had been posting videos every other day for a few weeks now, with varying degrees of favorable reactions. But some popular instagram freerunner had apparently stumbled onto their channel and shared it with his following. 

**@that.auditore.bastard** — _ check out this flock (haha) of runners from cali! they’ve got some great content on their channel. thanks for the rec @arno_and_elise #freerunning #parkour #eziospotlights _

The clip was from one of their most organically popular videos, in which Jacob had edited in a dinging counter for all the neighborhood cats they encountered. Jacob crawled through the comments, which spanned the spectrum of adoring capslocked coos to vile comments on Evie’s body. He checked the dummy email he’d made, and among all the praise, there was a similar vein of garbage. 

Wheeling his chair backward out into the common room, he yelled for the others. Altair, Malik, and Desmond emerged from Malik’s room with questioning looks, and Evie looked up from the couch.

“What?” everyone asked.

“I think we have hate mail.”

“_ What? _” everyone asked again, more forcefully.

“Hate. Mail. We’ve got a bunch of people shitting on Evie and calling her names, and some really racist people saying things about Malik. Just read them.”

Jacob turned his laptop around and watched as the four of them grew more visibly infuriated with each second. Altair looked like he was contemplating murder, and Evie looked like he would need to hold her back. Malik and Desmond were more reserved but clearly angry.

“We need to thank this Auditore bloke for the feature,” Jacob said when Evie finally pushed the laptop back toward Jacob. “We might as well say something about this shit while we’re at it.”

Them being them, they decided to make the video on the spot. It was only midmorning, which meant the lighting was good, and it only took a minute to hang a clean sheet behind the couch. Desmond manned the camera, which was just Malik’s phone mounted on a schlepped together tripod that Aleck made for them. They recorded it all in one take and finished in half an hour. 

“We need instagram, don’t we?” Evie said with a sigh once they were done. “If we’re really going to turn this into a thing.”

“Yes,” Jacob said without hesitation. “And possibly Twitters, too. I’ll make a page for the group after I finish editing the video, but we should all have personal accounts. It’ll be fun.”

Malik groaned. “I don’t have the time for this, I have to study for my o-chem midterm.”

“It’ll be _ fine _. Besides, you’ll have another platform to insult me on,” Altair joked. He was already on his phone, setting up a new account. 

Jacob leaned over his shoulder and snorted at the username he’d chosen. “Taking a page out of Ezio’s book, are you?”

“You have a better idea?”

“Nah, I like it. It’s very you.”

Altair narrowed his eyes. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Of course not.”

“You know the more we put out there,” Malik interrupted, “the harder it will be for us to maintain our anonymity, right?”

They all gave it a moment of consideration before Evie nodded. “Yes. I think we should slow down our channel, only post once a week or every two weeks. We’ll put the majority of our content on instagram and keep our faces out of it. If at any point this project puts any of us in danger, it ends immediately.”

“It won’t come to that,” Altair said, his voice deadly serious. 

Jacob eyed him curiously, wondering how he could be so assured of that. Even Malik didn’t comment on the implied threat in Altair’s words, or Altair’s ability to follow through. Thinking back on their fight, it wasn’t hard for Jacob to believe that Altair was capable of keeping them safe. 

It was Desmond who finally broke the silence. “Anyone want pizza? I’m going to go outside and order.”

“Sausage and bacon.”

“Ham and pineapple.”

“Pepperoni with extra cheese. Also, ew.”

“I think it’s fine. Could I get a margarita pizza, please?”

Desmond looked at them all tiredly and exhaled through his nose before saying, “I’ll just steal from you guys then.”

Jacob sprawled out on the floor and was quickly joined by Altair. It was slightly baffling that the older boy was so small, and yet commanded a room so easily. It didn’t really work with Evie around, but Jacob had seen the way people automatically bent to the force of Altair’s charisma. And Evie was a force to be reckoned with in her own right. They all were, really. And together, it felt like nothing in the world could touch them. 


End file.
